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chapter sixty-four
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my heart breaks in a heart beat
and you storm me as you come and go
the taste of something so sweet
should have warned me 'bout the undertow
oh, i couldn't find a better man to let me go
-Sara Bareilles, "Undertow"
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April 10, 2004
11:00 am
The sand was cool between her toes as she padded barefoot out to the beach, and the gentle breeze blew her long blonde hair around her face. She shook her head and tucked the offending locks of hair back behind her ears, walking quickly toward her destination.
Up ahead, she could hear voices laughing and talking together. It was Martin's family, gathering together at Victor and Lydia's vacation home on Martha's Vineyard for the Labor Day weekend, as was their tradition. The first person she recognized was Caroline, who looked just slightly older and more distinguished with her hair cut short with highlights. Rebecca stood behind a tripod, adjusting buttons and lenses on one of her many cameras. Behind her stood Scott, holding up another lens as she switched them out. Tim and Victor stood together off to one side, deep in conversation and obviously trying to avoid the commotion coming from where all the kids stood.
Lydia, however, was right in the thick of it - standing in front of her grandchildren as she helped 'arrange' them properly. All four of them were wearing khaki shorts and white polo shirts, although Alex and Natalie's outfits were far less crisp and pristine as Kelsey and Bridget's - the consequence of trying to get the four and a half year old twins to sit still for more than two minutes.
But there was someone missing...
"Hey," Martin called out, coming up behind her. "Did you sleep okay?"
"Yeah, thanks for taking him so that I could get a nap in."
"It was no problem" Martin smiled. Sam turned around, and Martin was walking towards her with a dark haired, blue eyed toddler in his arms. "We took a walk and got to watch the seagulls because someone didn't want to take a nap..."
Sam shook her head, laughing. "He got that from you. If I hadn't spent 18 hours in labor, I might not believe he was my child. Right buddy?" she smiled, making a face at the boy before taking him from Martin. His small arms went immediately around her neck.
"Okay!" Lydia announced diplomatically. "Now that we're all here and awake, I think it's time."
Sam walked over to where Kelsey and Bridget were waiting before setting her son down beside his older cousins. Kelsey took his hand and stood him directly in front of her, and Sam backed out of the picture, going back to stand beside Martin.
"We're going to do this nice and easy," Rebecca explained, snapping shots quickly as she talked. "On the count of three, everybody say 'cheese' alright? Ready? One... two... three..." Rebecca moved around, getting more candid shots as everyone adjusted their position. Scott stood behind the tripod, taking the formal shots.
Looking on as Rebecca and Scott photographed the family, Sam felt Martin reach down to take her hand in his. She felt the cool metal of his wedding band against her palm as he smiled down at her...
xx
Sam yawned and rubbed her eyes. There was no sand, no wind, no waves, and no beach. She was at Martin's place in New York, and he was stuck in D.C. indefinitely. She rolled over, hugging the duvet against her as she desperately clung to the last vestiges of sleep.
She felt warm and comfortable and inexplicably calm even as she ran through the details of the dream in her mind. She realized that it had been a long time since the idea of being with Martin scared her; the previous night had proved as much. It had been months since she had spent a Friday night sulking in the office with nothing else better to do. If Martin was not in town, she was spending more time with Danny and Naomi, with Caroline, Tim and his nieces or even with his Aunt Bonnie and Uncle Roger; she found herself a welcome addition to any and all of his extended family.
She rolled over once more, but this time instead of mattress, her hand hit against something a little more solid. Startled, she opened her eyes and saw Martin's blue ones staring back at her.
"Good morning," he greeted her, all dimples and apparently very pleased with himself. "I was wondering when you might be waking up."
Still sleepily rubbing her eyes, Sam yawned. "When did you get here?" she asked.
Martin chuckled softly, running a hand along his hairline. "Filibuster finally broke up at about 11:00 last night -- fittingly, I might add, after a dramatic reading from Waiting for Godot. It got ugly there for a few minutes, I'd be surprised if parts of it weren't mentioned on SportsCenter's Top Plays." He raised an eyebrow, laughing it off. "The vote went down about half an hour later; it passed: 71-29. I took the red eye in this morning, and I've been waiting for you to wake up ever since."
Sam groaned, hitting her pillow once before plopping back down. "Your unique ability to function without sleep worries me sometimes."
He smiled, but it was transient as his mood grew suddenly somber and reflective. "I'm sorry I got stuck in DC last night; I really wanted to make this weekend special."
She smiled reassuringly back at him; he could be so endearingly unsure and overly self-deprecating at times. She rubbed indistinct patterns along his arm and answered back, teasingly, "You didn't ruin anything. I've never made it to six months with anyone else, so I have absolutely nothing to compare it to."
"Great," he said, exhaling and giving a small laugh. "I win by default."
"Last night you won with an overwhelming majority," she countered. "I'm proud of you. There will be other weekends for us to celebrate, and you're here now, which is what counts."
"I rescheduled my original plans, but I hope you didn't go off and make new plans for tonight." He gave a grandiose wave of his hand, rolling over onto his side and propping himself up on his elbow. "I'm pretty sure I could get a last minute reservation somewhere..."
She whacked his chest and mocked playfully, "Oh, it must be nice to have your connections."
Martin rolled his eyes and she opened her mouth to protest, but she was promptly interrupted as he leaned in and kissed her. At first it was soft and gentle, a kiss of familiarity and comfort, but it quickly progressed into something more. His lips were hard on hers, his tongue probing at her mouth demanding entrance. She wrapped her hands around his neck, pulling him in closer while he ran his hands along the sides of her rib cage, brushing against her breasts through the thin material of her tank top. She moved her own hands to rake across his back and down to his ass, eliciting a deep, throaty moan from him that reverberated through her, sending a pleasurable tingling sensation to her most sensitive nerve endings.
They were a tangle of arms and legs and sheets as they kissed until they were entirely out of breath. Reluctantly pulling apart for a moment, they lay together panting heavily almost in unison. Their bodies still flush, she could feel evidence of his obvious desire pressing against her abdomen but despite his discomfort, he slowed his breathing and said, "I've been waiting far too long to do that."
She looked into his eyes, his pupils dilated and his clear blue irises dark with desire, and licked her lips suggestively. Unceremoniously shoving him flat on his back she threw one leg over to straddle him, and leaned down, letting her long hair fall all around his face as she whispered in his ear, "Well then, what are you waiting for..."
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7:40 pm
Martin chewed his pork tenderloin slowly as they ate in comfortable silence. After spending the remainder of the morning in bed together, they decided that they both would prefer to stay in for the weekend away from prying eyes and second glances. That had been his initial intention when he planned to take her to Roger and Bonnie's cabin in the Catskills, just get away for the weekend and not have to worry about anything or anyone else. When he got stuck in Washington the night before, he decided to put those plans on hold for a time when they would have more than 36 hours together.
Across the table Sam looked up at him and smiled. She was different than the last time she visited; she was peaceful and calm in a very un-Sam-like fashion. Her brown eyes sparkled as she sipped Dom Pérignon from her champagne flute.
He began to relay stories of the previous night and how the filibuster finally broke up when his colleague, Nathan Creager (R, Virginia) passed out from a combination of dehydration and low blood sugar from not eating for twelve hours, and the mess that ensued and caused McDowell to finally give up the floor. She laughed at first, then grew quiet and pensive as though there was something on her mind.
His tongue darted out to wet his lips his throat suddenly went dry, and his heart began to pound rapidly in his chest. It thundered so loudly that he was sure she must be able to hear it. He opened his mouth to ask her what was on her mind, when she interrupted.
"Martin," she exhaled, so softly he wasn't sure she had even spoken at all. "I don't... I don't think this is working anymore."
His heart, which had been thundering so loudly in his chest, came to a sudden, abrupt halt.
Sam reached out across the table and placed her hand on top of his. "I'm sorry," she stuttered, suddenly appearing nervous herself. "I didn't mean for it to come out that way. Last night got me thinking... I don't want this to be it with us, flying back and forth and never spending more than two days together at a time."
He closed his eyes for a split second and breathed in softly, a sigh of relief, as his pulse rate slowed down again. He had been wondering how to broach the subject of the future with Sam for some time now, but could not decide on the best way to do so. In fact, his initial plans for the weekend included trying to divine her feelings on the matter. He squeezed her hand and let out a long breath and said, "I guess we need to have 'The Talk' then."
He looked up and Samantha was staring back at him, attentive and contemplative, but silent. He bit his lower lip and smiled back at her nervously. "Look Sam," he started, running his thumb against the back of her hand, "You know what I want. I know we don't talk about it, but it's no secret. I want a wife and kids and the white picket fence. Golden retriever too, although I might be willing to negotiate on breed..." He paused for a beat and exhaled. She brought it up, and he wanted to lay all his cards out on the table. "But the most important thing is that I want all that with you, so just say the words and I'll wait as long as you need."
There was an absolute silence that filled the room as he finished, his heart lodged somewhere in his throat.
Sam looked up and met his eyes, her gaze deep and penetrating. She exhaled softly and he held his breath.
"Martin--" she began. When she spoke her voice was calm and composed and, at first, impossibly soft, but then she smiled and it was like coming home. "What if I don't want to wait anymore?"
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